Presuppositional Spaghetti, the Lottery Paradox, and the Search for God

Introduction and Background on Presuppositional Apologetics

Unlike many Christians, I confess to being somewhat enthralled by a good atheist argument. I
see no sense in letting the significant mental capacity directed by intelligent atheists and
agnostics toward the discovery of logical weaknesses in typical Christian apologetics be wasted
on us by our having an attitude of scorn or dismissal. Would it not be wiser and more honorable
to learn respectfully from their analysis, and to admit where our own arguments may be flawed,
in order that if our faith is worth anything to begin with it will hopefully be honed and shaped to
something more solidly grounded?

Among many such weaknesses that could be pointed out in various popular Christian apologetic
arguments,[1] one in particular that I
am thinking of is the tendency to assume Christianity is
automatically, without further need for argument, the most reasonable alternative to metaphysical
naturalism.[2] Nowhere does this
tendency come across more directly, perhaps even arrogantly,
than in the strategy of presuppositional apologetics.

Presuppositional apologetics is an approach to arguing for the Christian faith that properly
emphasizes the truth that we all base our arguments on assumed first principles, or
presuppositions. Traditional apologetics really acknowledges this as well, and therefore attempts
to argue for the truth of Christianity starting from basic presuppositions that virtually everyone
would agree with. These would include the assumption of the validity of logic and the belief that
our senses are generally trustworthy, so that we can be confident that the world we see really
exists and is not just a figment of our imagination, for example. Presuppositional apologetics, on
the other hand, generally works on the belief that for the Christian, the truth of Christianity itself
is the basic presupposition that must be assumed as the starting point for our
apologetic.[3]

The presuppositional apologist will therefore generally not even attempt to argue for the truth of
Christianity from basic principles that are held in common with the non-Christian. Rather, his
approach is based on his firm conviction that his presupposition of the truth of Christianity is the
only one that ultimately makes sense of the world. In particular, presuppositional apologists
generally employ what is called a transcendental argument for Christianity. This is an argument
that claims that the very validity of the act of argument itself must necessarily presuppose the
existence of the Christian God. This is usually applied both to logical argumentation (i.e.,
whether or not something is true) and moral argumentation (i.e., what one should or should not
do). The transcendental argument thus asserts that all arguments that Christianity is either false or
should not be believed are therefore self-defeating, for the person doing the arguing must
unknowingly adopt the very presupposition he is arguing against in order to argue against it.

Though some have claimed otherwise, I do not believe the transcendental argument offered by
presuppositionalists truly distinguishes itself from the traditional approach. I see it rather as
fundamentally equivalent to some fairly classical arguments for the existence of God, such as the
cosmological argument, the moral argument, and the argument from reason, only put into a
slightly different form. The cosmological argument attempts to show that without a supernatural
first cause, our very existence would not be possible. The moral argument attempts to show that
without a supernatural source of morality, the concept of “ought-to” would not have any real
meaning. And the argument from reason attempts to show that without a supernatural source for
our rational faculties, there would be no reason to believe we could trust our own thoughts to
represent actual truth and not just utilitarian functionality.

I believe all of these arguments have their place. It is very difficult, to say the least, on the
presumption of pure metaphysical naturalism, to explain why there should be something (as
opposed to nothing), why there should be a true difference between right and wrong (as opposed
to simply a fictional concept of this difference that was naturally selected to aid the survival of
the species), and why our thought processes should come to be able to discern truth from
falsehood (as opposed to simply processing input into output according to a preprogrammed
sequence, like a computer). And I believe the transcendental argument of presuppositional
apologetics can make these points in a reasonably convincing manner.

The Flying Spaghetti Monster and Other Unlikely Gods

Where, then, does presuppositional apologetics (usually) go astray? As I suggested near the
beginning of this essay, I believe the most obvious problem is in how far it takes its argument. If
presuppositionalists would simply claim to be presupposing the inadequacy of metaphysical
naturalism, I believe they would have a much stronger case. But when they claim, as they
traditionally do, that it is only on the basis of the presupposition of the whole truth of Christianity
that existence and morality and logical argument can make any sense, I believe they open
themselves up to some well-deserved criticism.[4]

It is certainly not only the presuppositionalists who have an unjustified tendency to assume that
an argument against naturalism amounts to an equally-strong argument for Christianity. But it is
the presuppositionalists whose very approach forces them into this mistake, inasmuch as it claims
that one must presuppose the whole truth of Christianity in order for rational argument to be
accounted for, which simply does not seem reasonable. And it is the presuppositional approach that
puts this weakness in its most glaringly obvious light, which the atheists, naturally, have not
missed seeing. More importantly, I believe this weakness in the presuppositional approach gives
rise to an atheist argument that not only powerfully refutes the particular flaw in question, but on
the surface seems even to be a fairly reasonable argument against the existence of any kind of
god whatsoever.

This flaw in the presuppositional approach is most convincingly argued against by the simple
consideration of other religions. If the presuppositional approach constituted a proof of the
Christian God, why could it not equally be employed by Muslims to prove the existence of their
god, or Mormons to prove the existence of their god, or facetious atheists to prove the existence
of the Flying Spaghetti Monster god?[5]
Presuppositionalists may claim that morality and logical
argument would not be possible if the world came into being by any other god than their own,
but even if this is true, it is certainly not intuitively or convincingly so. Why should anyone
believe that it is only the God of the Bible, and not any other possible conception of a
supernatural, rational, moral first cause, that could serve as a reasonable explanation for such
things? It may be valid to hold an a posteriori belief that this is true based on a personal
knowledge of the God of the Bible, but I can think of no a priori reason to believe that it is true.
Thus, I can think of no reason why an apologist’s presupposition of the truth of Christianity
should be convincing to others merely on its own basis, without being supported by other
apologetic evidence, which the presuppositional apologetic approach generally eschews, or at least
minimizes.

The Flying Spaghetti Monster god mentioned in the above paragraph is, of course, a satirical
parody, but it is an example used by atheists (sometimes) to make a serious argument. We can’t
logically and absolutely disprove the existence of any such thing, but that clearly does not mean a
reasonable person would therefore believe in such a thing, because without any evidence for its
existence, the probability is vanishingly small.[6]
So it would be silly to even seriously consider
the existence of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, just as it would be silly to seriously consider the
existence of the Greek god Zeus, or of the Norse god Thor, to use some other commonly cited
examples. We can’t absolutely prove these gods don’t exist, but we all intuitively know that it is
fantastically unlikely. In fact, no matter what we think or imagine God to be like, the chances of
a god fitting that description are next to nothing. So why should we not also consider the
existence of the particular concept of God that happens to be described in the Bible to be
similarly insignificant?

The truth is, the atheists have a point here, if the approach of presuppositionalism is correct. On
an a priori basis (that is, purely as a presupposition, without any additional evidence or reason
accessible from outside of that presupposition), it really would not make any sense whatsoever to
consider the existence of the Christian God as even slightly likely. This does not mean the God
of the Bible would in that case be proven false, of course, or that Christians who believe they
have come to know Him from a personal encounter would necessarily be wrong. But if our
apologetic approach was purely one of presuppositionalism, there would be no reason for anyone
else to find it very convincing.

The Lottery Paradox

This leads to what seems on the surface to be a pretty good argument not just against Christianity
in particular, or even simply for an agnostic point of view, but for outright practical atheism. If
every possible conception of God is fantastically unlikely (again, on an a priori basis), then
surely we are epistemologically justified in intuitively not believing any of them to be true. And
if it is epistemologically reasonable to be extremely skeptical of every possible concept of God,
is that not equivalent to saying that atheism is the most reasonable and warranted philosophy?

I can certainly understand and appreciate the appeal of this argument. Even if a non-Christian
admits to the difficulties inherent in metaphysical naturalism, he may well reason along these
exact lines to reach the conclusion that naturalism must nevertheless be true, because the
existence of God is just so unimaginably improbable. Of course, all of this is contingent on
whether or not the approach of the presuppositionalists is valid. If there actually are other
reasons to consider the existence of the Christian God beyond merely the claimed advantages of
presupposing it to be true, this would not apply. But let us acknowledge that even if there are
other reasons, these reasons may be of a somewhat subjective nature, and perhaps fairly esoteric
and therefore unknown to the non-Christian. The question is, why should he even bother to seek
out such obscure reasons, if the a priori likelihood of the Christian God is so small?

This is a serious question that intuitively seems to put the atheist on the most logical ground. We
wouldn’t think it reasonable to expend any effort investigating the potential evidence for the
existence of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, so why should he investigate the potential evidence
for the Christian God? Would it not be more consistent to similarly dismiss the possibility of all
suggested gods? As the common atheistic saying goes, “Even Christians are nearly atheists; we
simply believe in just one less highly unlikely concept of god than they do.”

As appealing as this way of thinking may seem, there is a rather gaping flaw in the seemingly
bulletproof logic that the reasonableness of being highly skeptical of any particular god implies a
corresponding reasonableness in holding to the position of atheism. This is most readily
demonstrated by the lottery paradox, which is a popular thought-experiment proposed by
philosopher Henry Kyburg to demonstrate the inherent inconsistency in some seemingly intuitive
principles of epistemology. Imagine a lottery in which there are some large number of tickets
(say one million), only one of which will be chosen at random as the winner. You possess ticket
#274,153. Since the odds of this ticket winning are only one in a million, you are surely justified
in believing (some would even say knowing) that you will not win. Yet by the same reasoning
you would equally be justified in believing that each particular ticket from one to one million
will not win. And if you are justified in believing each particular ticket will lose, intuitively you
might argue that you are also logically justified in believing that there will be no winning ticket,
but that is clearly not true. You can actually know with 100% certainty that one ticket will win.

Similar examples can be constructed that do not guarantee 100% certainty that one ticket will
win, of course, but still make it fairly likely that one ticket will win, even though the chances for
any particular ticket winning are still fantastically low. The point is, simply because the a priori
odds against any one particular concept of god being true are prohibitive, that does not constitute
a valid reason to be an atheist. The question of whether any god is likely to exist, as opposed to
any particular god, must be considered separately, on its own merits (unless one is brash enough
to believe he is actually able to mathematically integrate the probabilities over the infinite
number of possible gods with any degree of accuracy, of course, and so calculate the final result).

The Search for God

Let us now reimagine the situation of the lottery paradox with some important differences.
Suppose now that the winning number will not be chosen at random, but will in fact be based on
some real entity, such as the population of the city of Peoria. Suppose further that you are
allowed to fill in your own ticket number. Now if you simply choose a number at random the
odds are still fantastically against you winning, but who in their right mind would do that? The
fact is, even if you had no a priori idea of the population of Peoria, you would immediately start
looking for that information. Even if the census data was not made public, you would search for
every clue you could find. Perhaps there would be many people who claimed to know the
number, even though their numbers did not all agree. Some you might be able to eliminate
without the need for further investigation after getting some clues about the approximate
population from your own observation. Others you would want to question and find out their
sources, and then in turn try to investigate those sources. You might not have any idea how or
even if you would eventually be convinced of the truthfulness and reliability of some particular
source, but you would still try your best to do so.

The presupposition you would be operating under here is not that any particular number is the
right one, but rather that the right number is worth searching for. You might not know if there
was any way to find it or not, but if you valued the prize enough, you would not be put off by a
simple consideration of the fact that each particular possibility was highly unlikely to begin with.
This is because you would realize that if you honestly looked for them, you might find clues that
would help you zero in on a particular number, and then the a priori improbability of that
number would cease to be a factor. (In fact, once you really found the right answer, the
probability of that number being the winner would jump up to 100%.)

This example may seem somewhat contrived, but I believe the major point stands. I do not say I
can absolutely prove that metaphysical naturalism could not be a sufficient explanation for all
truth, but I believe there are reasonable arguments for at least being skeptical. Whether you take
the classical form or the transcendental form of these arguments, it still seems unlikely to me that
the existence of the natural world, or of morality, or of our apparent ability to know truth, can be
satisfactorily explained without an appeal to the supernatural. And if there is indeed a
supernatural first cause for these things, it seems to me that it would be reasonable to call that
cause “God,” and worthwhile to try to find Him. After all, if He created us and our ability to
reason and to discern truth from error, it seems reasonable to at least hope that He may have done
that for a purpose, and a purpose that may well have involved Him revealing Himself to those
who honestly searched for Him.

So my suggested tentative presuppositions are not the truth of Christianity as a whole, but rather
the more modest ideas that there is in fact a God and that He is indeed worth seeking. It is not a
matter of picking an arbitrary starting point and presupposing it to be the winning ticket in spite
of the incredible odds against it, but rather a matter of recognizing the reasonableness of seeking
out the winning ticket starting from a much more rational (even if not absolutely certain) set of
presuppositions. As it turns out, the Bible seems to agree with the reasonableness of starting from
these very two presuppositions. “He who comes to God must believe that He is and that He
is a rewarder of those who seek Him” (Heb. 11:4). “The God who made the world and
all things in it . . . gives to all people life and breath and all things . . . having determined
their appointed times and the boundaries of their habitation, that they would seek God, if perhaps
they might grope for Him and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us” (Acts
17:24-27). Thus, the Bible seems to me like it could well be a significant clue in this search. If
God does in fact reveal Himself through the Bible, perhaps we will recognize that if we are actually
willing to look into it.

Is the evidence for this suggestion that God reveals Himself through the Bible compelling? Not
so compelling as to make Him obvious enough that every intelligent person will automatically believe
in Him, that’s pretty self-evident. Not so compelling as to constitute what I would consider an
absolute, objective, mathematical proof that eliminates the need for sincere seeking. But compelling
enough, I suggest, to merit a more careful consideration, to see if perhaps the evidence will at
least point in that direction. Compelling enough to see if perhaps God might speak through this
Bible to the genuine seeker who is not afraid to look critically and honestly at the evidence, in
such a way that this seeker will be convinced of His voice, should God will this to happen. This
is my approach, and this is the approach I would respectfully suggest to anyone else who might
be interested.

Endnotes

By metaphysical naturalism (sometimes called ontological naturalism) I mean the
philosophical belief that nature (i.e., that which has its existence in the material universe)
is all there is. I am not arguing against methodological naturalism, which is the belief
that natural science ought to concern itself only with questions of nature rather than with
anything of a supernatural character.

Cornelius Van Til, who is generally considered the father of
presuppositional apologetics, wrote, “a truly Protestant apologetic must therefore make its
beginning from the presupposition that the Triune God . . . speaks to him with absolute
authority in Scripture.” (The Defense of the Faith, Presbyterian and Reformed Publishing
Co., 1967, quoted by Phil Fernandez in his doctoral dissertation available online at
http://www.biblicaldefense.org/Writings/cornelius_van_till.htm.)
Gordon Clark, whose brand of presuppositionalism was somewhat different from Van Til’s,
nevertheless agreed with him on this point and went so far as to make it explicit that what he
meant by Christianity in his presuppositional approach was the interpretation spelled out in the
articles of the Westminster Confession. (Religion, Reason, and Revelation, The Trinity
Foundation, 1961, pp. 23-24.)

There is another aspect in which many presuppositionalists take their argument much too
far. This is in their claim that their apologetic does not simply show the presupposition of
Christianity to be reasonable, but that it rather proves their presupposition to be absolutely,
infallibly true. The fact that this so-called logical proof rests on circular argument is
obvious to all and frankly admitted even by many presuppositionalists themselves, yet they
continue to insist that their circular argument—and theirs alone—still results in
absolute, metaphysical certainty (of the same fundamental degree as afforded by the laws of
logic and mathematics, for example).